


The Magic Number

by TheDogzLife



Series: Squid Story [2]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: (agent 3 is 18 we good lads), F/F, Gen, also actually tagging the mari3 this time. rarepair mode, there are.... many ocs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-09 22:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDogzLife/pseuds/TheDogzLife
Summary: Agent 8 has been living on the surface for many months, and it might be time for her to find somewhere she really fits in -- but all she really needs is Agent 3, right?Some of Agent 4's friends want to meet Eight as a prospective team member. Agent 3 just wants to sleep. Unfortunately for her, she's more of a pushover than she's willing to admit.





	1. A Friendly Request

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the first of... potentially a handful of bonus fics for Mondegreen Melody. Reading that first isn't _technically_ required, though there are spoilers for it & a few references that may not be understood if you haven't.
> 
> This was initially going to be one part, but it ended up longer than I was expecting, and the best way I could split it was into three chapters. Which is fitting, because it's about Agent 3. Faye(3) and Eight weren't around a whole lot in the original story, so this is their comeuppance!
> 
> The only content warnings for this story are like... illness, and very vague mentions of substance / child abuse

Faye was woken by the obnoxious rattle of old pans, a now-regular occurrence she was starting to despise, and adamantly buried her head under the pillow to try and block it out. She’d praised Eight for learning how to make pancakes _one_ _time_ and the octoling had insisted on making them every day since. It had been a month. Faye was so sick of pancakes and the grating noises this ancient cabin created in the process of making them.

One day she’d have to go home, face her mother after being gone for so long and hope she’d be in a decent enough state; the stench of substance and alcohol had finally faded from Faye’s clothes, and she wanted them to remain that way.

At the very least, Eight deserved to have some space to herself. There was only one bed in this place, shitty as it was, and Faye had been given mattress rights when she was recovering from what that _phone_ had done to her. A few months had passed now, though, and while she didn’t feel _perfect_ , this was probably as recovered as she was going to get. Eight had been sleeping on a two-cushioned couch every night, and though it probably wasn’t a huge step down from the awful lumpy mattress, it wasn’t entirely healthy either. Every time Faye tried to suggest they swap, though, Eight was adamant that she was fine.

Eventually the clattering stopped, and with the sleepy feeling of relief, Faye shoved the pillow back under her head and curled up to try and get more sleep. She had just about drifted off when a plate was enthusiastically placed on the side table with a painful _clink._

“Pancakes!” Eight cheered, the floorboards creaking a little as she hopped back up to full height and rocked excitedly on her heels.

Faye stifled her irritated groan as much as she could. It wasn’t that the octoling _annoyed_ her, just… she wished Eight would leave her alone more. Faye was not a social creature. “You can have ‘em. I’m not hungry.”

The creaking stopped. “Breakfast is important. Captain says so!”

“The Captain says wearing your hat backwards is a trendy fashion statement,” Faye huffed. There was no sound of retreating footsteps, though, and she knew Eight was only going to stand there and stare at her until she agreed to eat. “Alright, _fine_.” If anything, the octoling’s presence was prompting her into eating a healthier number of meals per day. Perhaps she could force herself to be optimistic with that.

Eight seemed content with her victory as Faye sat up, and clapped her hands together before skipping over to the cheap plastic table where her own plate sat. It was piled high with such a mountain of pancakes that it made Faye feel a little nauseous just to look at, and she started to wonder if maybe octolings had a second stomach or something to fill out the space of the few organs they didn’t share with inklings.

Looking down at the plate on the side table, despite it being a much more manageable portion, Faye didn’t feel like eating. She started concocting various plans in her mind as to how she could dispose of these things without Eight noticing or catching on, without much success, but her brainstorming was interrupted as she saw the notification light blinking on her phone. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she plucked her phone from the table, pulling out the charging cable she’d left in overnight. She rarely ever got messages from anyone and she’d turned off notifications for the group chat ever since the Captain sent her on unofficial leave from her unofficial job, so who…?

The screen flashed up, and Faye just about managed to stifle a noise of surprise as she tapped on the almost spiderweb-looking cracked screen to open her messages. She hadn’t expected any further messages from this contact, but there was a small part of her that actually felt glad to hear from them.

Well, until she actually saw the message, at least.

[09:47] Hey sorry to bother you but 4 has been bugging me for your number so he can contact agent 8

[09:47] something about wanting her to meet some friends of his who are looking for an extra league team player

[09:51] ofc you don’t hat to do anything sorry if this is an inconvenience

[09:51] have** sorry its 9am

Faye decided to not mention that it was almost 10am when she sent this and rolled her eyes. Of course Marie wasn’t messaging her because she wanted to talk to her; why would she? There had been a time when Faye actually had the vaguest feeling of friendship with the Squid Sisters, but their busy lives had drawn them all apart and she’d started to doubt they ever saw her as anything more than the squid that’d helped them defeat the octarians once.

[10:24] after going through school I ain’t letting guys have my number. If he wants me to pass a message along I can. 8 barely has a phone in the firs place its more like a fancy rock

[10:24] and dw ur not a bother

[10:24] I highly doubt he’d try to hit on you but sure I’ll ask for a message

[10:24] not like he wouldn’t because of you or anything he’s just not into girls

[10:24] can’t relate

[10:24] o wow really??

[10:24] same honestly

[10:24] wlw solidarity

[10:26] haha

The final message came after a slight delay, as Faye absently picked at the food Eight had made for her. Eight had developed an extreme sweet tooth since reaching the surface, and the pancakes were drenched with so much sugar and syrup that it was a little sickening, but Faye managed to at least force down one of them in the hopes that the young octoling would be content that she’d eaten _something_. One of these days Faye really needed to put the energy into an overzealous compliment on the toast-making skills Eight may or may not have, and pray that would prompt a month of nothing but toast for breakfast instead. She could stomach toast.

It wasn’t long before her phone buzzed again.

[10:32] He said meet them at the crust bucket at 1400

[10:32] You sound just like the captain using military time. Does being a big dweeb run in the family

[10:32] oh shush

[10:32] I’ll ask but it’s probably fine. Eight doesn’t do anything other than play turf war all day as far as I know

“Hey,” Faye spoke up, and Eight glanced over with interest and cheeks stuffed with pancake. “Four wants you to meet some people. Friends of his, or somethin’. Sean’s at two. There’s your agenda for the day.”

Eight swallowed, and tilted her head. “Four’s friends?”

“They’re looking to make a team or something, I don’t know. You’re good at turf. Go make some new friends.”

“Do I need new friends?” There was a hint of worry in the octoling’s voice, as if she thought Faye was kicking her out. Honestly, she needed to sooner or later, but not until Eight was ready to move on.

“Never hurts to have more.” Faye shrugged, stating an ideology she didn’t believe in. “It’ll be fun.”

Eight prodded at one of the few remaining pancakes on her plate. The tentacles of her hair twitched and curled, as if she was in deep consideration. “Can you go also?”

Faye looked back to her, chin resting on one hand, hoping the disdain didn’t show on her face. She didn’t want to go anywhere today; she just wanted to sleep more. “Why?”

“I don’t knowing Four well. Don’t want to go alone.”

“Can’t Marina go with you?”

“She has work today.” Eight shook her head. “Pearl also.”

The suggestion of the one other person Eight knew fairly well died before it could even enter Faye’s mouth, as she pictured the Captain attempting to converse with today’s youth. The octoling still wasn’t _entirely_ fluent in the inkling language either, and Faye wasn’t sure she trusted Four to stand up for her properly…

Perhaps her role of babysitter was starting to get to her after all.

Faye let out an overdramatic sigh. “ _Okay_ , fine. I’ll go for, like, five minutes, just to make sure they’re not buffoons like Four.”

 

* * *

 

The warmth of the sun and the freshness of the city breeze were things Eight had grown accustomed to after a few months, but didn’t take for granted. She followed her friend through the city, detouring onto the paths with the least shadow and pausing to watch a few late autumn leaves flutter down to the pavement. Inkopolis wasn’t too different, in layout, from the underground city that had been temporarily purged from her mind, but it was so bright out here that the new chill in the air didn’t bother her, and the world _changed_ throughout the year like one giant lifeform. It was so _fascinating_.

Three didn’t seem quite so enamoured by trees and sky, watching with a blank expression whenever she waited at the next corner for Eight to catch up. From the few times they’d been into the city together, Three had caught on that Eight liked to observe everything on their journey, and had given them a whole half hour to make the ten-minute walk from the plaza to the square where the meeting was. That, Eight decided, was one of the reasons Three was her very best friend.

She caught up to Three at the last small stretch of the route, which was mostly alleyways and therefore nothing much that was interesting to look at; this one didn’t even have art sprayed on the walls like some of the others did. Disappointing.

“Four better actually be here so we can even find who we’re looking for,” Three muttered, her voice quiet in a way that Eight couldn’t tell if it was something she was expected, by inkling conversational standards, to reply to or not.

Three always seemed to shift into a different demeanour when outside of Octo Valley. Instead of her agent gear – it would draw attention out in the city, especially the cape – she was wearing what Eight was pretty sure was turf gear, a white sailor suit she kept fumbling for pockets on the front of, and red hi-tops. A straw boater covered her head, pulled at an angle to shadow the massive scar on the right side of her face in an attempt to make it less noticeable.

The square was always _loud_ , with music playing through various speakers as the buildings competed with one another for attention, and the bustle of citizens as they went about their day. Eight always felt a little dazed by all the sights and sounds and smells in this area, and it felt like something she’d never adjust to no matter how many times she went here; from the way Three quickened her pace and kept her head down, maybe she felt the same, and Three had lived in Inkopolis for _years_.

Fortunately there was a relatively clear path to where Crusty Sean’s food truck was. The tables were mostly full at this time of day, but scanning over them, Eight realised with a small wave of relief that she did recognise one of the inklings in the distance; the fancy-looking jacket and (in Three’s words) silly-looking fringe of Four. Two other inklings were at the table with him, a short orange one with sliced hair – wasn’t that painful? – and another that she soon realised was also familiar, mostly clad in green with a facemask obscuring their identity. _That’s Marie!_ Eight hadn’t quite mentally prepared herself for meeting one of her idols today, even if they had met in the past – in slightly dire circumstances, but still.

“I don’t know why she’s here, but don’t tell anyone who she is,” Three warned, noticing Eight’s starstruck glance.

Perhaps one day Eight would get to gush to the Squid Sisters about how much their music meant to her, but today would not be that day. Aw…

When he noticed them approaching, Four lifted one hand in a wave, beckoning the two agents over. Three let out an overdramatic sigh. She didn’t seem to like him much; Eight didn’t know him well enough to form any strong opinion, but he was _tall_ and older than them and seemed confident, and that was enough to intimidate her a little.

The small inkling with them paid no attention to the new arrivals yet, taking a bite from her shwaffle and fixing Marie with an intense gaze. “Are you sure we ain’t met? You look familiar somehow.”

Marie’s eyes creased a little from an unseen grimace at the younger squid talking with her mouth full, instinctively leaning away. “Yeah, I… get that a lot. People tell me I just have one of those faces.”

“I can barely even _see_ your face. You got a mask on.”

“Allergies.”

“Ohhh. That sucks.” The orange inkling nodded wisely. “Is it peanuts? I bet it’s peanuts. My little sister is allergic to peanuts. You can’t even _think_ about eating a peanut around her or she might just, like, _explode_.”

“Uh… something like that.” Marie held a slightly overwhelmed look as she glanced at Four, and followed his gaze to the new arrivals. She froze when she saw Three, blinking a few times and giving a small shake of her head. Eight didn’t know enough of the inkling mannerisms to know what that was all about. “Wow, you guys are early.”

“It’s only five to,” Three shrugged. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” She nudged the single empty chair further from the table with one foot, glancing back at Eight and giving a small motion that it was okay for her to sit. The octoling glanced between her and the chair a few times before taking the offer, placing her weapon case beneath the seat, feeling incredibly alone suddenly even though she was far from it.

“Agen—err— _Rollo_ wanted me to come along.” Marie threw a sharp glare at Four, saying his real name as if it were a foreign word she wasn’t used to.

He grinned back at her, the meaning behind his expression lost on Eight. “I thought you might enjoy lunch with _friends_! You’re usually so busy at work.”

Marie rolled her eyes, muttering quietly. “I knew sacrificing my day off for you was a terrible idea.”

“Aww, I love you too— _ow_.” The table jostled a little as Marie kicked his leg. Four gave her a hurt look, probably not an entirely genuine one, as he reached down to rub his shin.

The other inkling was ignoring their bickering, and as she shoved the remainder of her food into her mouth, she watched Eight curiously. It was… a little unnerving, but not with the same intimidation Eight felt from Four. Her gaze didn’t falter even when Eight managed to meet it for a few seconds, and she swallowed before opening her mouth to speak this time – and whatever she’d been about to say was immediately lost as she caught sight of Three. “ _Whoa_! What happened to your _face_!?”

Marie and Four both winced. Eight looked at Three in surprise.

It was the first time she’d seen any semblance of fear in her eyes. Three’s gaze darted to each side as if checking nobody else was looking at her as she self-consciously reached up a hand to tilt her hat slightly more to the right. “None of your business, kid.”

“ _Harper_.” Four said with warning in his voice.

“What?” The accused blinked innocently at him. “I was just asking how she got that really cool scar. Was that rude?”

Four sighed and held a hand to his face. “Oh boy.”

Harper seemed to realise she’d done something wrong, tilting her head a little before she looked back at Three again. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you! I think it looks real hardcore.”

Three just gave a small huff, not acknowledging the small inkling any more than that.

Waiting a few more seconds for any kind of response, Harper eventually gave a small shrug and turned back to Eight, reaching her hand across the table. “Hi, I’m Harper!”

Recognising the gesture, Eight hesitated only briefly before shaking her hand. “… Eight.”

“This isn’t who I wanted you to meet, by the way,” Four explained. “Harper’s just nosy and likes meeting new people – and making terrible first impressions.”

“I like making _friends_!” Harper protested. She grinned; one of her top canines was missing, leaving a big gap in her mouth. “Delilah used to _hate_ me. First impressions ain’t everything!” She crossed her arms, sitting back on the chair as she glanced at Marie. “I’ve known you for like ten whole minutes and still don’t know what _your_ name is.”

“Uh—it’s Marin. People tend to call me M.” That was obviously a lie, but at least Eight now knew what to call her if necessary.

“That still kinda sounds famili— _oh_! Oh, oh!” Harper hopped in her seat, and for a moment Marie looked afraid. “I remember! You were at the last splatfest! With Rollo and Jake! And… uh… someone else, I forgot her name. She had a kensa dynamo. I like her, she squid partied with me!”

Marie let out a small sigh of relief; her identity hadn’t been breached yet. “Yeah, that was my cousin. I’ll tell her we saw you again.”

“Sweet!” Harper punched the air. She looked expectantly at Three. “What’s your name?”

Three stood apprehensively with her arms folded, a slight scowl on her face as if she really didn’t want to interact with this squid anymore. “…Faye.”

Harper beamed. “That’s a pretty name!”

Her compliment was met with a deadpan stare. Flattery didn’t outweigh what she’d blurted out earlier, it seemed.

“Oh, hey.” Four interrupted the awkward atmosphere, watching something in the distance. “They’re here, finally. We’re saved.”

Eight felt her curiosity grow and the beginning of an uneasy feeling in her stomach as she realised she was supposed to try and make her best impression on these new people. She tried to follow Four’s gaze, her attention lost in all the movement of the square before she finally noticed three inklings who seemed to be heading their way. The one at the front gave a small wave, looking in their direction, which further proved her theory.

Leading them was a pale purple-haired inkling with a denim cap and striped shirt, carrying an oddly-shaped case that, from a glance, Eight guessed must have been some variation of slosher. Following closely behind was a slightly shorter inkling, with hair that was mostly black other than the orange at the ends, long on the left side and much shorter on the right. A bulky case with thickly padded straps weighed on her shoulders; a heavy splatling, most likely. She had dark skin with some lighter patches on her hands and chin, something Eight hadn’t seen before and couldn’t help but cast a glance towards Harper for any reaction, but she was just waving to them in the distance, so it was either something that wasn’t uncommon or something Harper was used to seeing, and that was why she hadn’t called attention to it like she had with Three.

Looking at her close friend, remembering how uncomfortable she’d seemed at the time, Eight could understand why pointing things out like that would be considered rude. She hoped that wasn’t a common trend, suddenly feeling out-of-place with all her octoling features while surrounded by so many inklings.

The last inkling, a little distance back from the others, reminded Eight a little of Four. His teal hair was layered, three parts held up by a backwards Takoroka visor and the remaining longer three tied below it. With his hula punk shirt and punk whites, Eight couldn’t help but wonder if he was the picture of what the squids considered ‘fresh’, or if he was trying too hard. His weapon case was the type that carried some kind of shooter; a lot of them were too similarly-shaped to identify just from the case alone.

Eight wasn’t sure if she was supposed to try and greet these new inklings or not; she was supposed to meet them, but she hadn’t met them _yet_ and didn’t know them, so which was it!? She ended up sinking a little more into her seat to make herself smaller, waiting for permission to do anything.

“You guys made it!” Four greeted them with a smile, and Eight couldn’t tell if he was joking or if he actually hadn’t expected them to show up. “Only, like, two minutes late.”

“Fashionably late,” the black-haired inkling huffed. “You got quite the crowd here, Ro. Who’d you want us to meet?”

“Okay, okay, so,” Four nodded, and motioned towards Eight, on his right, with one hand. She tried not to shrink away more without success. “This is Eight. She’s kinda new, but she’s good at turf.” He pointed to each newcomer in turn. “Mercedes,” the splatling one, “Chance,” the slosher, and then motioned to the unspecified-shooter-type wielder… “annoying dipshit.”

Huh. Strange name.

“Hey!” Visor guy scowled at him, ignoring the snickering from Harper and Mercedes. “That should be _your_ name, dumbass!” He made a motion to swipe at Four’s head, but Four was more than prepared for it, catching his wrist and easily keeping him at bay. The younger-looking inkling snatched his arm free, and lightly swung his weapon case at the back of the chair as he walked past, holding a hand out to Eight. “Artemis. Friends call me Arty.”

Eight shrank away from the motion, looking up at him with round eyes. Her gaze darted from his hand to his face for a few moments; then she reached out to shake his hand at last. He looked a little relieved; perhaps she’d waited too long. Hopefully she wasn’t messing up the customs already.

“And some friends call you dipshit,” Harper snickered.

“Rollo isn’t my _friend_ ,” Artemis huffed, crossing his arms. “He’s just an acquaintance who thinks he’s cooler than me.”

“It’s a pretty low bar, Arts,” Four smirked, earning a kick to his chair.

“Hopefully Arty isn’t too offputting,” the slosher inkling – Chance – smiled kindly at Eight. She liked this inkling, she’d decided. She wasn’t too sure about the teal one yet.  “It’s nice to meet you!” He was too far away to shake her hand, so he offered a small wave instead before looking to his other friend, Mercedes. “What are we doing, then?”

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “What you up for, kid? You got your ink weapon?”

Eight took a second to realise she was talking to her; she briefly opened her mouth from behind her skull bandanna to reply, then closed it again, not entirely confident she could form her words right. Instead she nodded, pulling her case out from beneath the chair.

“Sweet. I guess we could try and book some private matches to run through the ranked modes and see what you’re best at.” Mercedes rolled her shoulders, ready for action. Her gaze passed over the table. “We have enough for four-on-four here, if anyone wants in. A full room would be great.”

“Oh.” Four looked surprised at the suggestion, glancing around at his friends at the table. “I’m down if you guys are.”

Harper slammed her hands down on the table, causing the wrapper from her now-eaten food to briefly jump in the air. “Heck _yeah_ I wanna _fight_!”

Marie, startling a little at the loud noise and the surface under her arms shaking, didn’t look quite as certain. “I don’t know—my charger isn’t turf standard anymore, I don’t have a weapon I can use.”

“Me either,” Three muttered. “I’m not even signed up anymore.”

Eight looked up at Three with hopeful eyes. It hadn’t taken long for her to sign up to play turf war, a few minutes at most, and she’d feel much better if Three was there with her! Plus, playing matches was _fun_ , and Three rarely seemed like she was enjoying anything at all. That one self-assigned mission a few months ago seemed to energise her, just a little, even if she’d had to recover for a short while afterwards from injuries – but there were no injuries in turf war or ranked. There was equipment to make matches safe.

Three caught her gaze, taking a second to catch on to the silent plead – Eight really didn’t know anyone else here well – and when she did, she frowned more. Her expression looked a little uncertain, but she steeled it fast. “You know your puppy eyes aren’t going to give me the power to afford a weapon.”

Eight’s gaze fell back to the table, a little dejected.

“ _Ow_!?” Marie exclaimed suddenly, casting a sharp glare at Four. She swivelled away from him a little as she reached down to place a hand on her leg; was kicking people just some kind of strange inkling custom Eight hadn’t learnt of yet? “The hell was that for, dude!?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Four said with obviously fake innocence. “But y’know, you _are_ friends with Sheldon.”

“He let me borrow a charger for splatfest, I can’t _keep_ pestering him to lend me stuff.” Sitting back normally, she pressed her thumbs together, taking in the hopeful look Eight was giving her and the insistent look from Four, as well as a few curious glances of their entourage. “I guess I can ask. Only if A—if— if Faye wants to join, though, ‘else I’d just make an uneven number.”

Three still looked a little reluctant; she sighed in defeat, though. “Sure, I guess. Not like I had anything better to do today.”

Eight’s heart lifted, beaming behind the bandanna. She’d wanted to play matches with Three for _so_ _long_ ; now she finally could, and that gave Eight the burst of confidence she needed to feel ready to impress both her and her prospective new teammates.


	2. It's Only Four Matches

Marie felt like she was getting pushed around a lot today, and she wasn’t a fan of it. Callie, nosy as ever and getting all up in Marie’s business the second she knew Agent 3 had even the _slightest_ involvement, had badgered her into going along to this meetup today – and when Marie refused at first, because there was really no reason for her to go, Callie had messaged _something_ to Agent 4 and he’d insisted she go. Eventually, mostly just wanting the two of them to shut up, Marie had given in with the assumption that Agent 3 wouldn’t _actually_ be there, since she _was_ curious to see what kind of friends Agent 4 had.

She didn’t like the _knowing_ looks he gave her whenever Agent 3 was here, though. If Callie had spilled her secret, Marie was going to have some choice words for her later.

As she led the way towards Ammo Knights regretting her life choices, Marie’s mouth felt incredibly dry. She could hold herself together when they were in the group, but she definitely hadn’t mentally prepared herself for being alone with Agent 3 today. Her hands were kept firmly in her pockets and she paid too much attention to the ground at her feet, terrified of making an absolute fool of herself if she tripped. This was one of the reasons she’d distanced herself from Agent 3 before; apparently if she let a crush fester for too long she became absolutely inept. That wasn’t a personality trait she particularly wanted to have. Why couldn’t she have just been the ‘has crushes on various people but for only, like, a week’ type like Callie? Genes had failed her.

The silence was eating at her, and she felt like she should say _something_. Agent 3 seemed incredibly subdued; she didn’t look like she particularly wanted to be here, and Marie didn’t blame her given what happened the moment she arrived.

“I’m… sorry you got dragged along to this.” Marie chose her words as carefully as she could with the part of her brain she could actually get to focus right. “I didn’t know Agent 4’s friends were so… blunt.”

Agent 3 let out an apathetic laugh, adjusting her hat, and Marie’s stomach churned with guilt. “It’s fine. I know everyone notices anyway, they might as well say it to my face.”

“Still…” Marie was glad that her facemask obscured the fact that she kept nervously biting her cheek. Sure, she _was_ curious as to how exactly Agent 3 had gotten that scar, but her grandfather had been extremely tight-lipped about whatever had happened while the two of them were away, and she doubted Agent 3 would be any more likely to dispel that information – and Marie at least had the decency to not ask by drawing attention to the glaring injury from it. “It doesn’t look that bad.” _Wow, what a wonderful pick-up line. Great job, Marie._

“If you say so,” Agent 3 huffed.

Marie suppressed a sigh, mostly aimed at her own lack in communicative ability. She wished she knew the right thing to say. The next thing she knew, though, Agent 3 was giving her a curious glance – and Marie had to fight with her brain to stay focused and not get utterly lost in her dark-coloured eyes.

“Do you actually have allergies, or was that just a cover-up?” Agent 3 asked, her gaze briefly flickering to Marie’s facemask. “I always assumed it was just to hide your identity.”

“Huh? Oh.” Marie self-consciously ran a hand along the edge of the mask, trying to fight down the fear as she felt how warm her cheeks were. _I hope that’s not visible._ “I mean—it’s mostly just disguise. I guess it might protect me if I accidentally walk into a room filled with balloons or something, but that’s not a common occurrence.”

“You’re allergic to balloons?”

“Latex. Makeup artists hate me.” She gave a nervous laugh. _You’re oversharing. Don’t do that._

“That sounds inconvenient,” Agent 3 commented, definitely guessing correctly on that one as they approached Ammo Knights and she took the lead. “Guess I’m one of the lucky ones with no allergies.” She hesitated briefly with a hand on the door. “Well, unless we count Four. I’m definitely allergic to him.”

Marie couldn’t help a snort of laughter, which she was glad got drowned out by the chime of the door as Agent 3 pushed it open.

Ammo Knights was quiet today, fortunately, and Sheldon looked up from the weapon he was working on as they walked in; whatever it was, it was in far too many pieces for Marie to recognise. “Agents 2 and 3!” He greeted with an enthusiastic wave. “So nice to see you! Especially you, Agent 3, it has been quite some time! I still can’t believe I never realised you were an agent.”

“Hey, Sheldon. I hear you’re a part of the Splatoon now.” Agent 3 folded her arms on the counter, keeping her distance from the neatly-arranged weapon guts.

“The technical team, uh, technically!” He nodded. “What can I do for you two today?”

“Eh, well,” Marie started, and really wished she’d spent more of the short walk here thinking about what she was supposed to say. Callie had been the one who persuaded Sheldon to let them borrow weapons and gear before. “We kinda got dragged into doing some matches, and we don’t have weapons that fit the regulations now, so I was _wondering_ …”

Sheldon pressed his fingers together, waiting for her to continue and frowning a little when she didn’t. “I’d love to help, but I _do_ run a business.”

Marie rolled her eyes good-naturedly. It probably was a little unfair of her to ask him for favours, given who she was. “I’ll pay you this time.”

“Quarter price, plus the cost of any damages?”

“Sounds good.” She made a mental note to give him a tip anyway; it wasn’t like she needed the money, and it had been nice of him to help them out last time, as well as all the work he’d done for the New Squidbeak Splatoon. “One of the splat chargers still has splat bombs, right?” _And hopefully no bubbles this time._

“Yep! Regular splat chargers are in abundance here.” Sheldon clapped his hands together. “What about you, Agent 3?”

“I don’t know the sets, man – what’s the .96 gal got for specials these days?”

“Your choices are ink armour or splashdown.”

Agent 3 shrugged. “I’ll take the splashdown one, I guess.”

“.96 Gal Deco it is!” Sheldon nodded and hopped down from the stool he used to reach his counter. “I’ll have them in a jiffy!”

Marie watched Sheldon scurry away into one of the storage rooms at the back. “You sure like your specials, huh?” The last time she’d seen Agent 3 was the most recent fight with Octavio, and her agent gear had been adorned with special cans.

“They’re useful,” Agent 3 shrugged, still leaning against the counter as she rested her chin on one hand. She spoke in a low voice so Sheldon wouldn’t overhear. “I’m just glad he only asked for quarter price. I’m kinda broke.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Marie waved a hand. “I’ll cover yours.” Honestly, that was the least she could do for getting her dragged into this whole event. Money was no issue for an idol, but stating that out loud would be a little insensitive.

Agent 3 gave her a surprised look. “Really?” She smiled; a real, genuine smile, and even though it was a pretty small one it still made Marie’s hearts melt. “That’s real sweet of you.”

_Shit shit shit how do I respond to that!?_ Her brain crashed. Marie coughed to cover up her gay panic. “Sure, I guess—I mean— call it thanks for how much you helped me— us— with agent work, I guess.”

The smile faltered a little, and Agent 3 averted her gaze, staring at the scattered weapon on the table. “Right… agent work.”

_I said something wrong._ Marie didn’t know what, but she’d messed up something, and _dammit you just had to go and ruin it didn’t you!?_

She didn’t have a chance to try and correct whatever her mistake had been, though, because Sheldon had returned carrying the two weapons which seemed far too heavy for someone his size.

 

* * *

 

Eight was glad Three had agreed to join them, but she still didn’t like being separated from her friend when it left her part of an unfamiliar group, even if it was only for a few minutes. Mercedes took the now-unoccupied seat, and Chance and Artemis borrowed some spare chairs from the nearby tables, and as their gathering got more crowded, Eight found herself shuffling her chair closer to Four’s despite her earlier wariness of him, just because he was the one person here she’d actually met before.

It didn’t help that she was the centre of attention due to the nature of this get-together. They kept _asking_ her things, and conversation rules stated she was expected to reply. Fortunately, they seemed to have patience as she thought through her words. Eight had been on the surface for many months by now, and she could understand everything the inklings said, but actually _speaking_ their language was another matter.

She was also trying to think about how much they were _allowed_ to know. Yes, she was an octoling; they’d noticed that one very quickly, but didn’t seem upset at all by this fact. She was sixteen – Harper was sixteen too and very enthusiastic to announce this – she used an octoshot, her current highest rank was S+7 in Tower Control, her favourite food was the triple-fried galactic schwaffle; Mercedes promised to treat her to one if she impressed them today. That was extra incentive to play her best.

“Is Faye your sister?” Harper asked suddenly, catching Eight a little off guard.

What was a sister again? That was one of the terms that confused Eight, because all she’d heard it used for was the Squid Sisters for the longest time, but apparently they weren’t _really_ sisters. Apparently it meant someone also raised by your parents, but Eight didn’t really have those either – unless Pearl and Marina counted. Eight briefly threw a helpless glance at Four, since he had a brother and that was the same thing, as far as she knew, but he was looking at something on his phone.

“Harper, they’re, like, different species,” Artemis pointed out.

“So? I’m adopted and so are my brother and sister, maybe you can adopt octolings,” Harper shrugged.

Wow. Siblings were very complicated. Eight shook her head anyway, though, because even though the Captain had referred to both her and Three as being ‘like grandkids’ to him, that probably wasn’t an official statement of adoption. “She’s my best friend! She’s really good at battling.”

“Or, y’know, she was two years ago,” Four added, still paying attention to the conversation even if he wasn’t looking at them. Of course; Three had already said she wasn’t signed up anymore, and how else would Eight have seen her fight? They couldn’t let on anything about their agent lives. Eight nodded in agreement.

“Must have been an elusive one; we knew most of the top ranked players back before the base moved here.” Mercedes absent-mindedly swept some crumbs off the table. “I’m always down for a challenge, so I hope she still puts up a good fight.”

_More than you know._ Eight didn’t dare say that out loud. She was excited to see what Three could do when she wasn’t being controlled by goop. There had been a time when they fought, two years ago when Eight was in the octarian army, but the memory was too hazy for her to remember any of the details about it.

There wasn’t any more time for talking after that, though, because Three and Marie returned with two cased weapons; Eight could guess Marie’s was a charger, but Three’s case looked too big to be a splattershot. Was she using something else?

“Hopefully we can get some matches set up,” Chance said as the group packed up and headed for Deca Tower. “They might be booked.”

“There’s a good hour until the schools let out and people are at work, we can probably find the space for four matches.” Mercedes hauled her heavy case onto her back with little effort; she was well-accustomed to carrying around her splatling.

As they walked, Eight instinctively fell into step beside Three. “What weapon are you using?” She was more curious to know if Three would actually tell her than what it was.

“.96 gal deco,” Three replied simply. “Who knows if I can still use these things.”

They didn’t talk much more than that; Three wasn’t really one for conversation, and Eight didn’t mind at all. She didn’t look too enthusiastic for their matches, though. Hopefully that would change when they started.

It was only a few minutes wait while Three signed up and Mercedes booked them some space; there was lots of free time at this hour. Harper started chatting to Eight in that time, not seeming worried about the fact that the conversation was rather one-sided as she yammered on about her and Four’s team. Apparently someone called Ada was her best friend, and the leader of their team was called Delilah.

“Don’t tell them I told you this,” Harper leaned in close so that only Eight could hear, “but Delilah and Mercedes are ex-girlfriends. They say they got no bad blood now, but like, I think that’s why Dee didn’t come with us today.”

Eight only responded by blinking curiously. She didn’t know any of these inklings well, but it sounded like a lot had happened between them already.

Once they were set up, leaving their weapon cases in the lobby storage – the gun Three had sparkled a lot under the colourful lights – they split into their two teams, ready to use the teleports to their respective spawn points.

“We’ll try not to kick your asses _too_ hard!” Harper taunted, racing away to take the lead with her enthusiasm.

Eight only caught Faye’s gaze for a brief moment, but it was impossible to read what she was thinking.

“You ready?” Chance’s voice nearby caught her attention, and Eight realised she was the only one not on the transporter yet.

Time to impress. She gave a determined nod, hopping on after them.

“Time to wipe the smug grin off Rollo’s face,” Artemis sneered, slapping his weapon against the palm of his hand. Now it was out of its case, Eight could see it was a H-3 Nozzlenose D.

“Wow, Chance, looks like your infatuation has some competition,” Mercedes teased with a grin.

“Oh, shut up.” Chance lightly punched her shoulder.

“I honestly have no idea _what_ you see in that guy,” Artemis scoffed.

“Okay, okay, this day belongs to Eight, not Rollo.” Mercedes waved away his complaining before looking to her. “Alright, kid, time to show your stuff. We’re looking to see what your skills are and also if you work well with us as a team, alright?”

“Yes!” Eight nodded again. She may have been apprehensive about these squids at first, but by now they seemed nice enough. They’d accepted her fast, and there was an air of familiarity between them.

“And you two! No losing your heads just ‘cuz Rollo is on the other team.”

“ _I’m_ fine.” Artemis shook Chance’s shoulder. “Tell lover boy here.”

Chance shoved him away, a little more roughly. “Shut up!”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “I promise the boys are less useless in matches.”

Neither of them had a chance to defend themselves as the transporter lit up, taking them to the destination of their first match.

As Eight regained her vision, she recognised the blocky terrain of Snapper Canal. The middle section was highlighted by a brightly-lit border; splat zones. The holographic screen above ticked down to the start of the match, showing the names and weapons of the players on both teams. Four and Harper had a matching _GD_ in their titles, while Eight’s other three teammates were simply prefaced by a square, denoting their currently-in-progress team. Three and Marie’s levels were noticeably lower than everyone else in the room, but that said nothing about their skill.

“Okay. Team briefing,” Mercedes announced, wanting to make the most of the twenty seconds they had. “They’re not used to playing together, so we have the advantage until they work out their rhythm. Harper will play aggressive; Rollo has ninja squid. Keep an eye on the other two and watch for patterns.”

“We have any game plan?” Artemis asked.

“Everyone play by your instincts. We can plan in the next match when we know how Eight works best.”

The chime blared with the beginning of the match, and three squids and an octopus raced from the spawn. Mercedes went to take the high ground to the left while the others headed for the zone to cover it.

The other team reached it first, guided by Four’s curling bombs. Eight inked some turf from as distant as she could get, wanting to stay out of range of the potentially hidden roller as she scoped out where everyone was. The zone’s indicator struggled back and forth between colours as the teams fought to claim it.

Harper and Three were on zone-painting duty. Marie was on the top area, opposite Mercedes. No sign of Four. Eight ducked behind a wall and checked her map, noticing the trail of ink that wrapped around to the side of their base. _He’s sneaking around._ She superjumped to Mercedes.

She wouldn’t have made it in time, but fortunately she was not the only one paying attention. Eight landed just in time to see Four get mown down by splatling fire, the roller disintegrating as he was returned to spawn.

“Good eye,” Mercedes praised her with a thumbs-up.

Eight beamed underneath her scarf. She was doing good! Her octopus form propelled her forward as she hopped back down to where the zone was.

The other team had covered the zone in her absence, and Harper took a wave of ink from the slosher as she dodged around to take out Chance, before Artemis managed to splat her with two pellets of ink from his weapon. He saw Three’s approach and fired at her, but even with a bulkier weapon than usual she was still agile and easily dodged aside, leaving him with a surprised expression before he disappeared into the opposite team’s ink colour.

_I can fight Three!_ Eight swam towards her, bursting out of the ink and throwing a bomb; Three deployed a splash wall just in time for it to explode against that instead, and with longer range she easily landed two shots.

_Yes_ , Three was still really great at fighting! She was so _cool_!

The rest of the match played out well; the other team had the zone for a while, but as Mercedes unleashed her special, she was able to put it back to even, taking out Four again in the bubble explosion, and Chance respawned in time to cover the rest of the zone for them. There was a little back-and-forth, and at one point Eight exchanged splats with Marie while using her special – Marie had great aim with a charger, but so did Eight with the inkjet – and in the end, after thirty seconds of overtime, Eight’s team won.

“Sweet!” Mercedes cheered as they all high-fived in the lobby. “Great job, kid. Rollo wasn’t wrong when he said you were talented.”

“I’ve never seen someone use an inkjet so well!” Chance was still a little out of breath after the mad struggle at the end of the match, but his eyes sparked with inspiration.

Eight couldn’t respond more than a happy giggle. She was _elated_ ; she’d made some new friends today, and they were _impressed_ with her! They were wonderful already.

“Dude, how in the heck?” Artemis was looking at the match results on one of the nearby screens. “That Faye girl didn’t get splatted even _once_!?”

“Damn, really?” Mercedes checked what he was looking at. “Fourteen splats, too. Mostly you, I think, Arty.” She ignored his glare. “She was pretty agile. I guess she knew what fights she couldn’t win.”

“Are we going right into the next match?” Chance asked.

Mercedes gave a nod. “Next slot at Goby Arena is ours for Rainmaker.”

 

* * *

 

It was three minutes into their second match when Faye’s head started to feel cloudy. She ignored it.

So far, playing matches with this unruly lot wasn’t _as_ bad as she’d first thought. Harper never shut up half the time, and Four seemed to think that being on a league team (and being older than Harper) gave him the authority to tell them all what to do. If Faye had to take orders from anyone here, she would accept them from Marie and nobody else. She was Agent 2, after all, but that was another secret identity for now. There were so many.

At the beginning of the rainmaker match, Harper had stated very quickly that there was a rule on their team that Four was not allowed to pick up the rainmaker; a statement he’d sighed and reluctantly nodded at. Marie gave him a surprised glance but quickly added in that she wouldn’t touch the thing either, and though she didn’t say why, Faye had realised during their last encounter that her swimming wasn’t the strongest. Harper was eventually denoted their rainmaker carrier, to which she’d shrugged and accepted the responsibility. At least that was easy enough.

Actually playing the match wasn’t. Faye and Marie managed to stop the other team from pushing for most of the time, but Four struggled to engage the enemy when he was outnumbered. As the game hit the one minute left mark, Faye felt the world spin in front of her, and ducked away into the ink to let it pass; that short time was enough for Eight to overpower the rest of her team with Artemis’ ink armour and guide Chance through to their base with the rainmaker.

Fortunately the others didn’t seem to notice her absence. Harper was yammering away to Four after the match about how they _nearly_ had it, and Faye really wished she would shut up.

“You okay?” Marie’s voice, quiet as to not bring attention to her, took Faye a little by surprise. She didn’t want how garbage she felt right now to show through.

“Yeah. You?” Faye tried to divert attention. _There’s nothing wrong. I’m fine. It’s just a headache. There’s only two more matches._

“I’m good. Ranked battles are just more tiring than I expected.” Marie did sound a little out of breath, but it was wearing off fast. Faye was almost jealous.

Their next match was Tower Control at Wahoo World. The amusement park was loud and obnoxious and the background noises weren’t drowned out by the sounds of weapons, and Faye immediately decided that she hated this place. Harper seemed even more excited than before as she plunged into the trail of one of Four’s curling bombs. Their team always started strong with a fast approach to the objective, but as much of a mess as they were, they hadn’t been very good at keeping that up.

Harper was the first on the tower, spreading ink all around until she could fire off a collection of tenta missiles. A suction bomb forced her to abandon ship after a few seconds, and she was smothered in enemy ink from Chance’s slosher as soon as she landed back on the ground, not managing to land enough ink bullets to trade splats. Four cleaned up her mess, splatting Chance and Arty before Mercedes wiped him out from the far side of the middle platform.

_What an inkbath._ Faye only dared take a few steps closer before throwing a splash wall to protect herself from the splatling fire, but Mercedes threw one of her own, and would no doubt be able to destroy Faye’s within a matter of seconds. _Time to go._ She backed away to cross back over the glass bridge, hearing the quiet chime from her ink tank telling her that one of her teammates was about to superjump to her.

Her path was blocked. Eight had snuck around the spinning platform to flank them from behind.

Faye, caught by surprise, only managed to land one shot before she was pelted by three in the opposing colour. The weird now-foreign feeling of being splatted ran through her for only a millisecond before she could feel nothing, as the respawn system called her back. She only caught a small glimpse of the joyful triumphant look on Eight’s face before Harper landed from the superjump, dodge-rolling out of the way of fire and splatting the octoling to avenge her teammate.

When Faye reformed in the ink, the world felt wrong. The sound was muffled. She shook her head, but that only made the rides in the distance turn in front of her face. Her weapon appeared seconds later, and she waited a few extra seconds for the feeling to pass before she picked it up.

_More reasons to avoid getting splatted._ She’d manage to escape that fate up until now; after spending years doing dangerous agent work, she instinctively backed away if she thought she couldn’t win a fight, because engaging the octarians gave no second chances, but that method didn’t seem to be helping them win. Still, if she was going to feel like _that_ every time she respawned… _ugh_.

Choosing to swim back to the middle instead of superjump, Faye struggled to concentrate. She didn’t know this stage. Heading back up to where she’d been before seemed like a good start. She took the most non-hostile path, across an inkrail.

_Cod_ , her head hurt.

The other team were on the tower now. It began its descent to the lower level as Faye snuck around, seeing Harper get taken out again once she arrived. The overhead holographic display made Faye’s head spin, but it showed that Marie and Mercedes were both currently respawning as well, and Artemis’ icon popped back into colour. Eight and Chance were both on the tower. _Time to change that._

Faye returned to the bridge, taking aim at the tower which was still within range for her. Eight looked up and spotted her, and reached back in preparation to pull out a splat bomb.

The tower span. Faye was hit by a fierce throbbing pain in the side of her head. Her weapon fell from her hands. The world turned upside down.

She was falling.

Her ink tank cried out a warning beep, and her senses cut out before she reached the ground.

 

* * *

 

Eight tossed a splat bomb up at the bridge. She thought Three had jumped to avoid it at first, and raised her weapon in preparation to engage, but froze when she saw the .96 gal slide off the glass and Three fall – and then disappear into a puff of smoke before she could hit the lower level of the stage. Her weapon hit the ground and vanished as if she’d been splatted – but looking up at the overhead display, the weapon icon was coloured in.

There were only two possible causes for that to happen; someone forfeiting a match, or…

“Was that the health alarm?” Four reformed as an inkling from where he’d been submerged in the ink. He looked confused, and a little concerned, not attempting to fight either of them on the tower as it jolted to a halt at the first checkpoint.

“It sounded like it.” Chance looked equally as concerned as the two exchanged a baffled glance.

Eight stared at where Three had vanished. What had set off the health alarm? Eight thought she had recovered now. The emergency system wouldn’t pull someone out of a match unless it detected an abnormality in their vital systems, or if they lost consciousness.

_Oh no._ Without another thought, Eight fumbled on her ink tank, trying to find the button that was inconveniently placed so people wouldn’t press it by accident trying to use a sub-weapon.

“Eight, wait a—” Chance’s sentence was only half-heard before Eight too disappeared into ink-coloured fog, and Wahoo World vanished.

A few moments later she was back at the teleporters in the lobby. Another team vanished in a flash of light from down the row, off to their match, but other than that the room was empty. Eight couldn’t remember which platform the other team had used. Where was Three!?

One of the teleporters glowed and flashed, and hope welled up inside her only to be dashed again when Four appeared. He quickly noticed her, lost and alone, and beckoned her as he stepped down from the platform. “She won’t be here, come on. Health alert takes people directly to the nurses.”

Eight followed him through the building, wishing they were moving faster than a speed walk, and trying to avoid getting too close to the roller held over his shoulder even though it didn’t hold any ink while in the lobby’s atmosphere. She hadn’t been to the rear section of the building before; there’d been no reason for her to. It wasn’t overly complex, and left to her own devices she probably would have found her way eventually, but she was glad Four was kind enough to help. Perhaps he wasn’t as intimidating as she first thought.

They found Three easily enough; she was standing outside a door with a symbol Eight recognised from the hospital when she’d been there with Pearl, and a jellyfish with a funny-looking hat was talking to her.

“I really do recommend that you do the waiting and let us run more tests to find out what happened,” the jelly insisted, wiggling a jointless arm.

“I’m _fine_. It just _happens_ sometimes, there’s nothing wrong.” Three turned to walk away, one hand briefly starting the motion to hold her head, but stopping herself when she realised that would only give the nurse more cause for alarm.

The jellyfish took a few scuttling steps after her. “Please, at least wait until someone can escort you—”

“Stubborn squid escort here,” Four spoke up as they passed. “Don’t worry, she’s with us.”

“Oh! Well, that’s being good. Please look after her and do the bring her to a doctor if she doesn’t get better quickly!” The jellyfish looked a little baffled – it was hard to tell, when their face was eyes and nothing else, how did they talk? – but didn’t bother them further, hurrying back into the room to return to work.

Eight, now without speed limit, raced ahead to catch up to Three. “What happened?”

“ _Nothing_!” Three didn’t look her in the eye, or stop to acknowledge her, continuing on with a hand pressed to her scarred temple. “It’s just a headache.”

“I don’t think headaches make people faint,” Eight continued, worried. “We can stop playing the matches for now.”

“ _You_ can do whatever you want. They wouldn’t let me back in even if I wanted to.”

“You didn’t want to?” Eight hesitated with a look of slight dismay. “I thought—”

“You were the one who begged me to go with you!” Three made a vague attempt to glance at her but it didn’t look like her eyes were focusing correctly, and for a moment Eight was worried she might collapse again. She gave a slight shake of her head. “You’ve had time to get to know them, just go back, you’ll be fine without me.”

Eight quickened her pace a little, trying to overtake and stop her, because she wasn’t entirely sure if Three even knew where she was going or if she was just trying to get away from the place she’d been taken to. “If I knew you weren’t—I thought you might have fun.”

Three was forced to stop before she walked right into her. “Well, tough. Life sucks. Get outta my way.”

“Maybe you should rest—”

“I’m _fine_! Stop bothering me!”

“I’m—I just—I’m wanting to help…”

“I don’t _need_ your help!” Three snapped at her. Her eyes blazed with anger and her hands trembled. “I _never_ needed your help! Just because you think you can’t do _anything_ without me doesn’t mean it’s mutual, so _leave me alone_!”

Eight was too stunned to fight back as Three pushed her aside to get past, with unexpected strength given how frail she’d looked just a few seconds ago. The yellow inkling stormed off, vanishing around the next corner.

Being shoved only hurt a little, but the new feeling Eight had in her gut felt _awful_. She wanted to curl up and cry. Three was her _best_ _friend_ , but did she not feel the same way about Eight? She thought Three liked her, but she’d never seen her snap at anyone that way, not even the people she claimed to dislike.

_Was it bad of me to ask her to come along?_

“Is she okay?” Marie’s voice broke Eight out of her trance, a little, if only because she hadn’t realised she’d followed.

“Faye or Eight?” Four responded a little glumly. “I think Faye was more upset than anything, but still… maybe you should go after her.”

“What? Why _me_!?” Marie threw him an incredulous glance.

“She’s mad at Eight and she hates me,” Four shrugged. “Besides, she should really have someone with her in case she passes out again.”

Marie held her glare for a moment longer; then she sighed. “Okay, you’re right. Can you just, like—look after this, or something?” She held out the charger. “I’ll lose her if I go back to storage and I can’t take a weapon outside.”

“Yeah, sure.” He took it from her with a small nod. “Good luck.”

Eight watched her pass, walking at first but quickly speeding up into a jog in an effort to catch up to the runaway agent. _At least Three will be okay. She’s strong, and Marie is looking out for her._ So why did she still feel so _bad_?

Four placed a hand on her shoulder, and it startled her so much she yelped and batted him away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he drew back quickly. “Are you alright?”

He looked sympathetic. Why? Was there a reason she shouldn’t be alright? She didn’t feel very alright. Maybe she was _supposed_ to be alright? Conversational topics confused her so much. “I… don’t know?”

Four gave a half-hearted smile and took a few steps back the way they’d come. “We should go find the others and let them know what’s going on; they must be worried. If you want to stop for the day, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Stop what again? Oh yeah, they were playing matches. Eight was supposed to be showing her prospective teammates her skills. “Can we even play now? Half your team left.”

“Maybe Chance could switch to ours for the last one,” he shrugged, then continued quickly. “Or, y’know, Arty, if Merce wants us to have a miserable time.”

If there was a reason he’d added that last part in so hastily, Eight didn’t think much into it. She could still do this. Mercedes, Chance and Arty had been nice to her so far, she didn’t want to let them down.

Plus… after what had been said to her, she wanted to prove that she _could_ do things without Three.

“We can go back,” she nodded, deciding more easily than she thought she would. “Let’s keep playing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Squid Story Lore (tm)  
> Marie tries her best
> 
> Final chapter on sunday!


	3. Progress

Faye felt bad in more ways than one, and the bustle and music of the square didn’t help. She didn’t really know where she planned on going – she would have to return here later to retrieve her weapon, the health alert confiscated them for a short while for safety reasons and she needed to give it back to Sheldon – but the last thing she needed was to collapse somewhere in the street and have strangers fussing over her. Seeking the quiet, she turned right to one of the alleys past Grizzco, and her line of sight fell on the innocent-looking grate on the ground. What were the chances of an octarian uprising on this very day? Not much. She transformed into a squid and hopped in.

Tentakeel Outpost was quiet, thank goodness. It looked untouched since the one time Faye had been here a few months back. A quick glance into the building showed that no, this was definitely not an inhabitable place and just the thought of trying to find somewhere to rest in all that mess made her headache worse, so she settled for dropping unceremoniously onto the bench outside instead, the wall creaking in protest as her back fell against it. At least it was quiet here, even if the air held a faint tang of octarian ink from the domes.

Man, she’d really messed up this time. Why did she have to go and snap like that at Eight? The poor thing was just nervous because of all the new people, it was making her a little clingier than usual, and Faye had to go and say _that_ to her? Her head pounded harder, and Faye winced and pressed a hand to it again.

Was this just going to happen any time she made any kind of physical exertion now? Ugh. _Something_ was definitely wrong, but her situation was probably too unique for anything to be done about it. There probably weren’t a whole lot of medical cases on “sanitized goo messed with brain”. She shuddered just at the reminder.

Faye closed her eyes, trying to focus on listening to the wind whistle quietly through the canyon instead of the guilt or pain. The pulsing in her head lessened a little after a few minutes, thank goodness. It wasn’t long before she heard another noise; the rattling of the grate.

_Oh cod._ What if Eight had followed her out here? As far as she knew, the octoling didn’t even know where the entrance to this place was, but she didn’t feel ready to face her again just yet.

When a shape passed through the grate, it wasn’t the pink colour Faye expected; instead, green. She stared, a little dumbfounded, as Marie regained inkling form, her brow creasing a little with relief when she saw her.

“I had a feeling this was how you’d disappeared so fast.” Hesitating only briefly, she made her way over and held something out to her; a bottle of water, probably chilled given how foggy the plastic looked. “You okay?”

“I’m _fine_.” Faye instinctively shrank away from her, attempting to fold her arms but ending up hugging them to her body instead. “I don’t need anyone looking after me.”

“I know you don’t, Agent 3.” She gave the bottle an insistent shake. “But it doesn’t hurt sometimes, right?”

Faye gave her a sullen look for a moment before finally giving in and taking the water bottle from her. She didn’t make any attempt to open it yet, liking how cool it felt in her hands. If Marie hadn’t been here she’d probably have just held it against her head, but knowing that might look a little silly, she refrained for now. “You can just call me Faye, y’know. I’m barely an agent anymore.”

Marie gave a small shrug. “If that’s what you want.” She carefully took a seat next to her, trying not to shake the bench too much. “Really though; are you okay? I know me and Callie only guided you through a short part of your fight with the octarians, but I don’t think… _this_ used to happen.”

“It didn’t.” Faye suddenly became acutely aware of the fact that Marie was sitting on her right side, and habitually adjusted her hat again as if that would do anything to cover up the giant scar on her face. She bit the inside of her cheek before sighing. “I can’t tell anyone what happened in that place, but… I guess it messed me up pretty bad.” Faye gave an apathetic laugh. “At least nobody else got hurt.”

If Eight hadn’t managed to stop her, Faye would have killed both her _and_ the Captain – Marie definitely didn’t need to know that part, he was her grandfather – and who knew what might have happened to Inkopolis if Eight hadn’t been there to help stop that statue? Things could’ve definitely been a lot worse.

With a sympathetic glance Faye didn’t dare meet, Marie pulled off her facemask, rubbing at the back of her ears where it had been putting pressure for the past few hours. “Whatever happened, I’m sorry we couldn’t be there to help.”

“Don’t worry about it. From the sound of things you guys were caught up in your own mess while we were gone.” Faye finally twisted open the water, taking a sip from it and having to resist the urge to down half the bottle. Had she even had anything to drink this morning? Whoops. That probably didn’t help. “… I’ll apologise to Eight whenever I get back. Hopefully I didn’t mess up her thing.”

“Nah, you’re good. They’re still going without us, I think.” Marie gave a small nod. “You had lunch yet? Agent 4 forgot the part where I can’t eat while wearing a mask to hide my identity from his friends.”

Faye couldn’t help a small huff of a laugh. “Wow, can’t believe popular idol Marie from the Squid Sisters is asking a peasant like me on a date.”

“I _mean_ —” Marie responded hastily, and Faye only laughed more. She must be way off the radar for someone so high-profile, but she could still joke about it. “I dunno. I just thought some food might make you feel better.”

“Well, given past experiences, eating anything when my body decides to be like this usually doesn’t end well,” Faye said with a slight grimace. “Thanks for the offer, though—and like, the water. I think that helps.” Her lips curled into a genuine smile, something she didn’t feel like she did much anymore. “Don’t take this the wrong way but like—you’re a lot sweeter than I remember, y’know?”

Marie giggled at that, instinctively covering the lower half of her face with one hand. “Thanks. Was I really that much of a dick before?”

“Well, Agent 3, I _suppose_ you did a good job fighting those octarians,” Faye mimicked, putting on a rather un-Marie-like voice that made her laugh even harder. “Okay, maybe not _that_ bad. You’re a really good friend.”

Her words brought out another small laugh from Marie. “Yeah—I mean, yeah, you too.”

“That one’s a little more debatable.” Faye gave a wry smile. “But… thanks.” She hadn’t felt so at ease talking to someone in a long time… she appreciated that.

 

* * *

 

Marie had only stayed for a short while before leaving Agent 3 to have some peace and quiet to recover – Faye, she wanted Marie to use her real name, and that felt like way more of a big deal than it should’ve been – and promising that if Faye ( _aah_!?) needed anything else she could message her. Marie doubted she would, and her guess was right, but the thought was there, at least.

The others had finished their final match when Marie returned, and Eight looked a lot happier now. Agent 4 gave Marie the charger back, and they managed to recover Faye’s weapon as well so Marie could return them both to Sheldon. His eyes seemed to grow even larger than usual when he saw the tip she gave him.

When she got home, the apartment was quiet. Callie had gone to visit Jake today, to check up on him and also probably as an excuse as to why she, the more extroverted one, couldn’t go with Agent 4 and the others. Perhaps Marie should’ve asked to borrow her Agent 1 shades so she could actually eat while she was out. She threw together a quick lunch before collapsing on her bed, intending to take a nap after all the exercise she’d done – two and a half matches, that was an excuse to sleep – but ended up lying there awake.

Faye had said _so_ _many_ nice things to her and her mind was still reeling from it. She’d _smiled_ at her! Sure, she’d rejected the offer for lunch, but she’d joked about it being a date and she hadn’t seemed _opposed_ to that.

_Wow, Marie, you really are a gay mess._

With too much energy for her liking, she ended up giving up on her nap and settled on cleaning the apartment instead. It wasn’t like Callie was going to do it if left to her own devices. Marie only just heard the sound of the front door over the vacuum cleaner when her cousin finally got back.

“How’d it go?” Callie asked, basically shouting in Marie’s face to make sure she was heard.

Marie shut off the vacuum, shooting her a deadpan glare. “Ranked battles didn’t make me _deaf_ , Cal.”

“Whoa, whoa, you were playing _matches_?” Callie stared at her as if she’d grown an extra head.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Marie shrugged. “Got dragged into it, I guess. They needed an eighth player.”

“Wow.” Callie looked amazed, her gaze briefly falling on the vacuum. “You did all that exercise and you’re _still_ cleaning. Something gay _must_ have happened.”

“Yeah, right. You overestimate me.” Marie rolled her eyes. Time to change the subject and hope Callie didn’t press her for details. “How’s Jake?”

“Oh, he’s doing much better! His arm is back to normal again now – and he kicked my butt at Smash.” Her enthusiasm was curbed with a slight pout. Callie had never been that good at video games. “Anyway, you _gotta_ tell me what happened!”

“Okay, _fine_ ,” Marie let out a melodramatic sigh. She wasn’t going to let it go, but at least Callie supported her.

Maybe a little _too_ much. Marie still had some _questions_ for her about how much she’d said to Agent 4. Based on her answers, Callie might have the house-cleaning duties forced on her instead.

 

* * *

 

Faye was woken by sunlight glaring in her eyes as it sank past the awning, and quickly realised she’d fallen asleep on the bench at the outpost. Whoops. Checking her phone showed that she hadn’t been asleep for more than an hour or so – and there was a message from Marie saying she’d retrieved the .96 gal and returned it to Sheldon for her, so Faye typed a thanks before she could forget. At least her head didn’t hurt so much now.

She walked slowly back to the plaza, partially because she still felt a little off and partially because she knew things were going to be awkward when she got back, if Eight was even there yet. She was.

The octoling was sat at the table, which was covered in paper and pencils. Eight had been somewhat of a scrapbooker ever since coming to the surface, which started off with her writing poems about everything she saw – Faye had glimpsed a few and could barely read them, as Eight substituted octarian for any words she didn’t know – and eventually spread into drawings and the occasional souvenir from her daily adventures, which were mostly the odd leaf or receipt. Right now, she seemed to be making doodles of her new friends; Faye could recognise Mercedes and Chance, and a very spiky-looking Artemis, and a scribble of Four that looked a lot less angry-looking than her last attempt.

Upon hearing the door open, Eight didn’t react, but Faye could tell from the way her pencil stopped moving that she’d noticed.

Faye hovered at the doorway for a moment before kicking off her shoes. “Hey.”

“Hello, Three.” Eight’s voice didn’t hold its usual enthusiasm; it was a little ominous to hear her speak so formally.

After a few seconds of silence, and Faye biting her lip, she finally took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for losing my cool like that earlier. Your last match go well?”

Eight turned to look at her, eyes widening a little as if she hadn’t expected Faye to apologise – and Faye realised with a pang of regret that Eight probably wasn’t used to her actually trying to engage in conversation with her either. _You really chose poorly on your best friend, huh._

“Arty went on Four and Harper’s team,” Eight told her with a small nod. “I splat him at least five times.”

Faye smiled and patted her shoulder. “Good job. I wish I’d been there to see his face.”

“Do you feel better?” Eight asked, watching as Faye went to go check what kind of food they had stuffed into the small fridge.

Half the food storage space in the kitchen was taken up by ingredients for crabby cakes; that was the drawback of staying at a place that was technically owned by the Captain, even if he was rarely here these days. There were also some sandwiches in here. “Yeah. Sorry if I scared you. I’m good.”

“That’s good!” Eight sounded a lot happier; perhaps she was worried Faye was angry at her. “I—I left some sandwiches for you, but if you don’t want me to do that in the later, that’s fine.”

“No, no, it’s cool, I appreciate it. Thanks.” Faye took the plate out – she kind of wanted to hold that against her face too, it was so cold – and took a seat at the table, holding the plate on one hand since Eight had most of the surface accounted for. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, by the way, I was just… angry and migraine-y. You poor kind-hearted creature, getting stuck with a grouchy butt like me.”

Eight giggled at the word ‘butt’ like the child she was. “You’re not bad. Harper said you seemed mean, so I told her you were actually really nice. You help me with things even when you don’t have to.”

“Wow, Eight, you’re gonna ruin my cold reputation.” Faye tried to hide her smile behind a sandwich, but Eight saw anyway and reflected it back.

The octoling may have bothered her at times, but Faye couldn’t deny that Eight had definitely grown on her. She _was_ a great friend, and perhaps Faye wasn’t doing as terribly as she thought.

 

* * *

 

It was a week before Squidmas when Eight moved out.

Mushy half-melted snow was dotted around outside the cabin at Octo Valley. Marina, her hair tied up and underneath a thick woollen hat that made her almost unrecognisable, had shown up to help under the guise of aiding Eight with moving, but Faye had the feeling she mostly just wanted to meet the ones she was moving in with to make sure they were trustworthy. Marina was the closest thing Eight had to a parental figure, after all, even though she was the same age as Faye.

Only a few weeks had passed since that meetup, but Eight had become fast friends with her new teammates – they _were_ forming a team together, and were still brainstorming names, though their best one so far was ‘MACE’, made from the first letter of each of their names (Faye had snickered as she thought of another alternative, but didn’t dare subject Eight’s poor innocent soul to that) – and they had a spare room in the house they shared. Eight visited there a few times before, and returned with at least twenty photos of Artemis’ pet pigeon, Tweetless, which she enthusiastically showed to Faye. She had the feeling the bird might have sold the idea for her.

Eight didn’t really have many belongings, just her weapon and sketchbooks and basic necessities which were mostly clothes, so it didn’t take her long to gather everything. Marina went to go put her stuff in the car – how had they explained to a driver why they were going through a sewer, or had they hidden them around a corner somewhere? – and let Eight have a chance to say goodbye.

And, Faye had to admit, she was sad to see her go. Glad that Eight would finally have her own bed to sleep in, but… she’d grown used to having her company, no matter how many pancakes she was forced to eat as a result of this.

Eight didn’t look happy to be leaving her, either, her lip quivering a little as she said her farewells. “Will I still see you sometimes?”

“Sure. Just don’t drag me into a match and we’re all good,” Faye said with a half-hearted smile. She wasn’t much of one for contact, but hoping it might make Eight feel a little better, she held her arms out for a hug. “You big baby.”

Eight hesitated for only a moment, as if working out if she was reading the gesture right, before she pulled Faye into a tight hug. Faye, not wanting to be outdone, made sure to squeeze her tightly as revenge for having her face smothered in a shoulder. Eight was so tall, it wasn’t fair.

Then she was gone, off to live her life not residing in a rusty old shack that smelled like old man. Faye furiously rubbed at her eyes when the octoling vanished through the grate, even though there was nobody around to see her having an emotion for once. She hadn’t expected to feel so… _empty_ , when Eight left.

“Maybe this is how moms feel when their kids move out,” she mumbled to herself with a small laugh.

Faye hesitated outside for a moment, a frown pulling at her face. She needed to return home someday and see her mother again, and maybe… maybe she should do that now. That would be the right thing to do, right? Instead of staying here, alone, in this old shack?

The more she thought about it, though, the more her stomach twisted and her hands began to shake, and she had to shove the idea aside. Hah. She could face the tyrannical leader of the octarians with no trouble, but she couldn’t even stand the thought of going back to live with her mother. Perhaps she’d manage to work up the bravery to at least visit for Squidmas, depending on how much she wanted the holidays to be terrible this year. Spending it alone actually sounded favourable.

As she headed back inside, where even with so few things missing the place looked empty, her gaze went to her poor shattered-looking phone. An idea hit her; she picked it up and rolled onto the mattress to type.

[12:37] hey I know its been a while and you might be real busy but if the lunch offer is still there and you get some free time would you be down

She hadn’t really expected a reply, but she got one after a few minutes.

[12:43] oh sure!!

[12:44] work is nuts and Callie wants us to go back to calamari for squidmas but I do have 1 day off before that. Is thurs okay?

[12:44] heck yea

Faye felt an involuntary smile spread on her face. She didn’t know what was different, but there was definitely something she liked about Marie now – _it’s not a crush_ , she told herself, she didn’t stand a chance – but whatever it was, she found herself wholeheartedly looking forward to spending time with her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's not a crush" that sounds exactly like what someone with a crush would say  
>  ~~they're going on a date~~
> 
> The End....... I have vague plans to write more bonus content for some other characters but who knows if they'll end up being multiple chapters like this one, haha. The original intention of this one was to be a story about how Eight joined Team Mace, but it ended up focusing more on Faye instead.....
> 
> Thanks for reading & extra thank you to everyone who left comments!! <33


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